


Love Is A Verb And A Noun As Well

by ChameleonCircuit



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/F, F/M, reference to sex, references to rape, references to rape in relation to case, very minor references to past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-17 01:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChameleonCircuit/pseuds/ChameleonCircuit
Summary: 5 times Rita Calhoun thought about love (and one time it happened naturally)





	1. 1. Rafael Barba

**Author's Note:**

> So this spawned from an ask I got from an anon (and a subsequent question from me-ladie)  
> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/164816719972/whats-your-headcanon-for-rita-calhouns
> 
> It just got me thinking, and I've wanted to write this for a while, and finally, FINALLY, I broke my writers block and smashed out some stuff that I'm satisfied with.
> 
> Title comes from 'Love Is An Arrow' by Aberfeldy

Rita sighed, heaving her bag onto her shoulder, and watched the back of Rafael’s head as he slipped out the door. The walk to the library (she knew he’d be there - where else would he be at four in the afternoon?) felt terribly long.

 

She knew she’d upset him, and normally that wouldn’t bother her with a partner - if they couldn’t handle her fight then they weren’t worth her time. But with him, it felt different. For all his external bravado, she got to know the real Rafael. The Rafael who was scared that if his classmates found out he was there on a scholarship he would be cast out. The Rafael who was terrified of his father and felt guilty for leaving his mother behind. The Rafael who admitted to the back of Rita’s head when he thought she was asleep that he was bisexual and too scared to admit it to anyone (she should really let him know he wasn’t alone - she was bisexual too - but she just couldn’t find the right time to say it).

 

She knew what he looked like when he cried, and the way his eyes shon with pure joy when his grandmother sent him gifts. She knew the things that kept him awake at night, the things he looked forward to the most, the things he held closest to his heart. She knew he kept a box of things from home under his bed that he made sure to look at regularly so he wouldn’t forget why he fought to be where he was in the first place.

 

Rita knew every piece of Rafael, and knowing just how easy he was to break made her want to protect him, even from herself, if necessary.

 

She could see him at his usual table, already hunched over a book with a coffee beside him. She sucked in a deep breath and pushed through the doors.

 

“You know I agree with you, right?” She asked softly as she sat across from him.

 

When he didn’t respond, she reached over to take his hands in hers.

 

“Come on, you can’t really be mad at me over some legal semantics.”

 

His eyes shot up, but there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, and she felt herself relax.

 

“You’ll make a great lawyer one day, Rita. I just hope you pick the right side to fight for.”

 

She smiled fondly at him, flooded with relief when he returned the gesture, before returning to his book.

 

* * *

 

 

As her breathing evened out and the sweat cooled on her skin, Rita felt Rafael nuzzle against her side a little. Cuddling after sex had never been her thing before Rafael, and yet with him, it felt completely natural.

 

She wondered if this was what love felt like - the unconditional acceptance of another person, finding comfort in their every word and action. She’d never given love much thought - aside from disinterest - but in this moment, it felt right. He knew her better than any other person she’d ever met, and she was okay with that. She didn’t just allow herself to be vulnerable with him - she sought him out as comfort in her weakest moments. If that wasn’t love, she wasn’t sure what was.

 

She’d once told him she didn’t believe in love. When they started sleeping together, long before they became such good friends, she’d told him it was sex, pure and simple. But now it was more. Now he was her best friend, her confidant, the person she looked forward to seeing most. She would choose his friendship over sex any day, and the sentimentality of it made her feel overwhelmingly vulnerable.

 

Still somewhat blissed out, and definitely half asleep, she rolled over to tell him as such.

 

“I-”

 

“I love sex with you, Rita,” he cut her off, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. “It’s uncomplicated.”

 

“It’s pretty hard to make sex complicated,” she said with a small huff, revelling in the way his hair tickled her nose as her breath ran through it.

 

“Feelings make sex complicated. _Love_ makes sex complicated. This,” he gestured loosely, and she could already feel herself sobering up, so to speak, “isn’t complicated. It’s just nice.”

 

She felt her blood run cold as his words set in, digging their way under her skin. If this was love, it was clearly unrequited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have headcanons about my own headcanons. In my first draft Barba came across as a dick, but I KNEW he wasn't being intentionally awful to Rita because in my mind he's already fallen in love with her and dealt with her not feeling the same, and he's moved on, so he thinks that's where they're at. Basically, they just keep missing each other. But, y'know, that's hard to put forward in a <1000 word drabble from Rita's POV. So I hope he didn't come across to badly. He's a sweetheart okay?


	2. 2. Danielle West (Female OC)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i doing this fic idea justice? who knows...

Danielle was breathtaking. It was the only word Rita had to describe her, and it wasn’t an exaggeration in the slightest - Rita’s breath literally hitched in her throat every time Danielle entered the room.

 

She had never-ending legs, beautiful olive skin, and shiny, long, wavy hair that bobbed around her face and hung over her chest and shoulders in a way that looked purposeful, no matter how she swished her hair.

 

It was a distraction Rita had tried desperately to ignore. And failed - oh how she had failed. She was supposed to be learning, taking in as much as she could so that, at the end of her year-long internship with the Brooklyn DA’s office, she could have learned enough to actually earn her place here.

 

Instead, all she was taking in was the slight dimples either side of Danielle’s face when she smiled properly, and the way her hips swayed when she walked with furious purpose. She had absorbed the sound of Danielle’s laugh and made it her mission to be the reason for it at every opportunity she got.

 

“... And Rita will be second chair,” Danielle finished, flashing a winning smile her way.

 

Rita felt her heart stop for a moment before thundering back to life at double speed. She was gaping as everyone in the room started gathering their things and leaving. She knew she was gaping, but she couldn’t quite rein it in.

 

After what felt like far too long, she clumsily grabbed her things, her cheeks burning as she scrambled for the door.

 

Long fingers curled around her wrist, halting her as she reached for the handle, and she turned, eyes wide and skin burning at the touch as she followed the hand all the way up to Danielle’s face.

 

“Not even a thanks?” She teased, eyes sparkling.

 

“Oh god, sorry, thank you,” Rita gushed, cheeks going impossibly redder. Danielle’s hand was still on her wrist. She was scared that if she moved an inch the contact would be lost.

 

Danielle laughed, but Rita could barely hear it over her heart beating furiously against her ribcage.

 

“Would you like a drink?”

 

She swallowed thickly, her mouth dry, as she tried to force herself to calm down enough to reply.

 

“If you can’t even manage a simple yes or no question, we may have some problems ahead of us.”

 

“Uh. Yes. Thank you. Yes,” she stuttered out, wishing the ground would swallow her up whole. She’d never in her life felt so uncomposed. The cool exterior she’d created for herself long ago was the armour she wore with her wherever she went. And yet, right now, it was completely gone, and she was left naked in a deep sea of affection and lust that was threatening to drown her.

 

Danielle’s hand slipped from her wrist, but instead of leaving, it moved to her hand, taking it gently as she tugged Rita across the room to her desk by the window.

 

“Is this going to be a problem?” Danielle asked, voice barely a whisper as she tugged Rita close to her.

 

“What?” She whispered back, eyes flitting to Danielle’s lips as she licked her own.

 

Before she could even dare to hope, Danielle pulled her in the rest of the way, full lips gently pressing against her own. As Danielle’s hands slid up Rita’s arms, she found her own strength and gripped Danielle’s waist, one hand sliding up her back to press their chests together. Boldly, she teased Danielle’s lips open with her tongue, delighted when she was granted access.

 

“Perhaps now you’ll be able to concentrate,” Danielle teased as they broke apart for air, but the teasing was blunted by the affectionate way she was twirling Rita’s hair between her fingers.

 

“Are you kidding? This will make it worse!”

 

Danielle laughed properly, pulling away to throw her head back slightly. And wasn’t that a sight to behold.

 

Rita felt a grin threatening to break out across her face, but she kept her expression calm, just a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. With her pent up sexual frustration at least partially released, she felt more in control than she had since she’d started at the DA’s office. It was comforting to feel her usual self slipping back into place.

 

“You still owe me a drink,” Rita reminded her, stepping just a little bit closer once more.

 

“I’ve got better stuff at my place.”

 

“Lead the way.”

 

\--

 

Sleeping with Danielle had taken away all the shy uncertainty she’d felt around the woman, giving her the freedom to question and tease and jab. And while Rita didn’t find her any less distracting, the promise of sex made it much easier to focus on words, knowing she could admire her body in full later.

 

Danielle made her second chair on two more cases after that, and Rita felt her legal knowledge expand and grow in ways she couldn’t even have imagined. Being able to use everything she’d learnt and actually put it in practice gave her a whole new understanding, and she felt confident her place at the Brooklyn DA’s office - and, by extension, beside Danielle - was secure.

 

She could feel herself falling more and more in love with the wonder that was Danielle West. Their personalities fit together in ways she only ever had with Rafael. But this felt real, and solid, and tangible. And it was magical.

 

And when she was offered a junior position at the Brooklyn DA’s office, she could barely contain her excitement as she knocked on Danielle’s office door.

 

“Come in.”

 

She schooled her features, allowing a smug smirk to settle on her face in place of the excited grin that was hiding underneath.

 

“Hey. I was just about to call you.”

 

“I’m guessing you heard?” Rita asked, trying not to let the lack of a smile on Danielle’s face bother her.

 

“I did. Congratulations.”

 

The silence hung heavy between them, and Rita leant against the doorframe, an invisible barrier holding her back though she desperately wanted to kiss her beautiful, amazing girlfriend. Something was wrong.

 

“Rita. Close the door.”

 

She did as was requested, but an unwillingness clung to her every movement. She forced herself to move further into the room, standing a few feet away from the desk, crossing her arms defensively.

 

“I thought you’d be pleased?”

 

“I am. I’m happy for you. You deserve that position more than any intern I’ve come across.”

 

“But…?”

 

“Sit down? Please?”

 

Rita stood firm, dread filling her up. She was already imagining a thousand and one things that could have happened to make Danielle look so hesitant and sad, and none of them were good.

 

“You know I care for you, right?” Danielle started, eyes not quite meeting hers. “This has been… fun.”

 

“Fun? Is that all this has been?” Rita felt the lump rising in her throat, causing her voice to raise in pitch. She hated that whiny sound coming from her own mouth. “If you’re breaking up with me, just say it so I can leave.”

 

Danielle bit her lip, meeting Rita’s eyes. They were filled with regret, more than anything else, and Rita hated the look on her. Regret told her everything she needed to know about the nature their relationship - or what she’d perceived to be a relationship, anyway.

 

“I got offered the position of EADA in Chicago.”

 

“Congratulations.” She couldn’t keep the ice from her voice. Ice was the only alternative to pure heartbreak, and she couldn’t voice that.

 

“I can’t do this long distance. I’m sure you understand.”

 

Rita gave a small nod of her head, turning to leave. She took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she reached the door and turned around.

 

“Really. Congratulations. You deserve it,” she said softly, savouring the smile she received in return before she left the room.

 

She held it together right until the moment she got in the taxi. Then suddenly she was crying so hard she could barely get her address out between gasps for air.

 

She practically fell into Rafael’s arms the minute she entered their apartment, feeling utterly pathetic, but entirely grateful for his presence in her life as he rubbed her back and pressed kissed into her hair.


	3. 3. Trevor Langan

“Trevor Langan. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, charming smile in place as he reached out to shake her hand.

 

“Rita Calhoun,” she responded, returning his smile with a small one of her own.

 

“I’ve heard about you. You were quite the budding young ADA before you jumped ship.”

 

She laughed, settling in her chair across from him, eyes raking across his body before settling on his eyes.

 

“Should I be flattered?” She asked, lip quirking up in her now-signature smirk.

 

His eyes lit up at that, and she briefly wondered how someone so sweet looking was working defense council with her. He didn’t respond, but instead handed her a folder with some loose papers.

 

“This is all I have from my client. Truth be told, I feel a little out of my depth here. My clients don’t generally get accused of murder, so… this is new for me.”

 

He looked more than a little uncomfortable, and really, she understood. Swapping from fighting for victims to being a defense attorney was quite the jump for her, too. But bills were bills, and they were much easier to pay these days.

 

By the time they had finished exchanging notes, they were also exchanging comfortable banter, and Rita had to admit she was enjoying herself far more than was decent.

 

* * *

 

 

Trevor Langan was a very skilled attorney. Effortlessly charming with a quick wit and smooth words, he could wrap a jury around his little finger, if only his client wasn’t so obviously guilty. His eyes were big and warm, and his smile soft and genuine. When he questioned the victims friends and families, he did with such gentle care, and not a moment of it felt fake. Despite being good at his job, she could tell he had a heart of gold, and even though he needed a jury to believe his clients innocence, he seemed genuinely sorry to upset the deceased’s family. Still, his methods, though softer than most, were effective, especially when in contrast with her harsher methods. They made a good team.

 

Once the case was over - plea deal, which she’s sure they only got because of Trevor’s charm, though she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it - they found themselves in a bar. Their banter, though more personal and less legal now, was as comfortable as ever. And after countless drinks, they were exchanging numbers, too.

 

She could feel his warm breath against her neck as he leaned in to say something in her ear. She didn’t quite catch what it was. All she could think about was how badly she wanted to kiss him.

 

He must have said something about leaving, because he was standing, gathering his coat in his arms before extending his hand to her. She took it gladly, and they escaped into the cool Autumn air together, fingers entwined as they walked.

 

“Where abouts do you live?” He asked softly, eyes shining with uncertainty.

 

“About a 20 minute walk from here,” she said quietly, tugging him a little closer to her. “Walk me home?”

 

He nodded, smiling fondly as she lead the way.

 

They fell into an easy silence for most of the walk home. She suspected he was trying to decide what his next move was when they got there. Honestly, she wanted to drag him inside and undress him as soon as she got home, but she wasn’t entirely sure that was appropriate. For the first time in her life she was perfectly happy to let someone else dictate how the night would end.

 

Once they reached her apartment building, she slowed to a stop, still holding his hand as she faced him. She gave him an honest, soft smile, hoping to ease the nerves she could feel bubbling up inside of him.

 

“This was nice,” he said quietly, ducking his head, though he was too tall to hide his face from her at all. “I’d like to do it again?”

 

It was a question, not a statement, and Rita only just caught herself before she rolled her eyes at him.

 

“You have my number,” she responded, her tone slightly teasing.

 

After a small beat he leaned in, brushing her hair from her face as he cupper her cheek in his hand. He pressed a warm, but entirely chaste kiss to her lips, gently rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone as he pulled back.

 

“Goodnight Rita,” he said softly as he turned, walking a little ways down the sidewalk before turning back to watch her enter her apartment.

 

* * *

 

It took 5 dates before he kissed her properly, but Rita was patient. Trevor was the perfect gentleman. He brought her flowers, he held her hand, he took her to fancy restaurants and cute bars, and once, when she was sick, he came over with a movie and cooked her fresh soup. 

 

But he could be feisty, too, once he became a little more comfortable around her. He gave as good as he got when she sassed and snarked, and he had no problem telling her when he thought she was wrong. 

 

Trevor was just easy. They fit together perfectly. He pampered her and challenged her in equal measure, and she found she rather enjoyed pampering him, too. He was far less forward and far more gentle than she was, but it was the perfect compliment to her sharp edges and overly forward nature. Plus, the sex was fantastic.

 

They’d been together for a little over a year when he dropped the bombshell on her. And really, she should have seen it coming.

 

They were in bed, his head pillowed on her stomach while she played with his hair, sunlight dancing across their naked bodies as it filtered through the gaps in her blinds. Her breathing was just evening out as she came down from her orgasm, matching his as it ghosted across her skin.

 

“I love you, Rita,” he said quietly.

 

She felt herself freeze. She wished she’d known it was coming so she could have forced herself NOT to freeze. But it was too late. He would have felt her hand still, his hair still tangled between her fingers, and her breath catch as the rise and fall of her stomach stopped.

 

She felt his breath stop too, the lack of its warmth causing goosebumps to form across her stomach and dot their way up her chest and down her legs.

 

She propped herself up on her elbows, releasing his hair as she did so, wishing her brain would work faster. Under normal circumstances she would have thought of a suitable response by now. Really, it was just unfair for him to dump that on her while her mind was still in a post-sex haze.

 

“I thought I was the forward one in this relationship,” she eventually said, and she felt, more than heard, his small laugh. But when he lifted his head to look at her, he didn’t look happy.

 

She bit her lip, sitting up properly, feeling a sense of nakedness that had nothing to do with the bareness of her body.

 

“I’ve been in love with you for the best part of a year. That’s hardly forward of me.”

 

She nodded, willing herself to feel it enough to say it back. But the truth was, she just didn’t. She liked him well enough, sure. They were compatible in every way. He was her best friend, and her lover, and she did love him, she just didn’t  _ love  _ him. And that realisation hit her in the gut and winded her in a way she hadn’t expected. She felt the lack of her own reciprocation as though she were on his end of it - and how in the world did that make sense?

 

“Trev…”

 

“Wow. Okay.” He looked properly hurt as he sat up, and he stared at her for a moment before turning to find his clothes.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tugging the sheets across her body as she watched him get dressed.

 

Once he was fully clothed he sighed, sitting back down on the bed next to her.

 

“Don’t apologise. You can’t conjure up feelings you don’t have.”

 

“Does wanting to feel them count?”

 

He looked at her, a sad smile forming. His large eyes taking on a greener hue in the faint morning light. He looked so sad, and it made her heart clench to see it and know she’d caused it.

 

“Can we at least talk about this?” She practically begged, feeling her throat tighten with emotion.

 

“What’s there to say, Rita?” He snapped, then sighed, softening his tone to add, “I just told you I love you, and you don’t love me back.”

 

“I could? Maybe? If we just gave it time.” She knew she sounded desperate, and she hated hearing that tone in her own voice, but she couldn’t bare the thought of what was happening, even though she knew it was probably what was best for him.

 

She could feel his hesitancy - it radiated off him in waves that made her feel unbearably anxious.

 

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, reaching for his hand.

 

He gave it a squeeze, and she could see tears welling in his eyes as he stood.

 

“We’d only be holding each other back,” he said roughly, and she knew he was probably right, no matter how much it hurt in that moment to let him go. She knew that, even though she would be happy to stay like this, her accidental rejection of his love would be something he could never shake. It made sense, but that didn’t stop it hurting.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Me too.”

 

And then he was gone, and she was alone, feeling utterly empty when just moments earlier she’d felt so entirely full.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo basically I just love Trevor Langan a lot and I feel like he's so under appreciated in this fandom. I was worried I'd mis-remembered what he was like as a defense attorney seeing as we haven't seen him defending a sex offender in AAAGES in the show, so I went back and watched some old courtroom scenes and was reminded that he has been and always will be utterly charming and sweet and lovely and no one can convince me otherwise.


	4. 4. Casey Novak

Casey Novak was magnetic, and Rita loved going up against her in court. The two of them treated it like a dance, flirting in ways that were probably inappropriate, but could easily be explained away as ego and a battle of wits.

 

It was their little game, and she knew Casey enjoyed it just as much as she did. Whenever she saw Casey’s name come up as prosecutor against her client she felt a thrill she knew she ought to feel guilty about.

 

Moving to a Manhattan firm had been a fantastic decision, and not just because it paid better.

 

They never discussed their courtroom antics, however. Their conversations, though ridiculously flirty at times, were always professional. They always discussed the case, the plea deals, the facts. They interacted in court and in meetings, but never outside of the legal world.

 

That was until Rita approached her in the bar around the corner from the courthouse after a case, bought her a drink, then kissed her senseless against the brick wall in the alley next to the bar.

 

“Took you long enough,” Casey whispered against her lip before catching it between her teeth.

 

“You could have made a move any time you liked,” Rita shot back, swiping her tongue across Casey’s teeth before pulling back.

 

“My place or yours?” Casey asked breathlessly, darting out of the alley to hail a cab.

 

“How presumptuous.”

 

Casey rolled her eyes, opening the door to the cab as it pulled up.

 

“Please, it’s a little late for playing hard to get, don't you think?” She asked as she motioned for Rita to get in.

 

Really, she’d been waiting for this for far too long to play hard to get anyway. So she slid across the back seat of the cab so that Casey could slide in after her, a smug smile firmly in place.

 

“Yours, then,” she said, and Casey wasted no time in giving the cab driver her address.

 

Rita felt a flicker of hesitation when Casey took her hand as they got out of the cab, but that quickly dissipated when their lips met and the warmth of her mouth consumed her.

 

* * *

 

Having Casey shudder and moan beneath her was everything she had imagined, and then some, and she revelled in repeating it again and again.

 

As she patiently waited for Casey to come down from her last orgasm, she drew lazy circles on her skin, enjoying the way her flesh raised in a constellation of goose-bumps under her fingertips.

 

Normally this would be the part where she got dressed and saw herself out, but that somehow didn’t feel like the right thing to do. She wondered if Casey expected more than just sex from this. They had been dancing around it for so long, and while it was purely about sex for her, she felt a flicker of worry that maybe it meant more for Casey. 

 

Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t even think about that. Whatever feelings her sexual partners may or may not have for her wasn’t any of her concern. But this wasn’t normal circumstances. Casey wasn’t normal circumstances.

 

Casey was a woman whom Rita admired and respected. She was magnetic, self assured, confident, and powerful. She was clever and witty and vulnerable when it counted. She was the perfect prosecutor - everything Rita had hoped she could be when she’d first started out.

 

In a way, purely in personality and determination alone, she reminded Rita of Danielle. And that thought made her chest tighten, just slightly. Sometimes, even after all these years, she still wondered what could have happened if Danielle hadn’t left for Chicago. Realistically, she knew Danielle hadn’t loved her. But a small, naive part of her brain still held onto the idea that maybe, if they’d had enough time, she could have.

 

She’d wondered on that when her and Trevor had split up, too. She’d wondered if she simply couldn’t love Trevor because a part of her would always love Danielle. Rafael had been quick to tell her how stupid that idea was, but she sometimes still wondered.

 

She doubted she could ever be friends with Danielle if they met again, while that love still clung to her heart like mold - unwanted, but determined. It was why she understood Trevor’s disappearance from her life. You just couldn’t be friends with someone you were in love with - it hurt too much. It was also how she knew that, really, she’d never been in love with Rafael. His rejection of something more had stung for a while, but their friendship had never wavered, and her feelings eventually went away.

 

She chanced a glance up at Casey and found herself being watched. She felt her face heat up under the scrutiny - something that hadn’t happened in an awfully long time.

 

“You just gave me the best orgasm of your life, and now you’re miles away.”

 

Casey said it matter-of-factly. There was no room for dismissal or argument. She felt the body next to her shifting, Casey’s warm hand came to rest on her hip, her thumb rubbing a gentle circle.

 

“You wondering if I’m gonna kick you out?” She asked, inching a little closer.

 

“Something of the opposite, really,” Rita admitted, glancing down at the hand resting on her hip.

 

Casey laughed, running her hand up Rita’s side, dragging it across her breast before tilting her chin up so their eyes met.

 

“Are you always so contemplative after sex? I figured you to be the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. I didn’t expect you to worry about my  _ feelings. _ ” Casey let her hand drop beneath them before rolling onto her back again. “You can stay, or you can go. I don’t mind. But I’m not taking you out for breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever.”

 

She couldn’t help but laugh at the tired, lazy way the words dropped from Casey's tongue, entirely coherent, though far less articulate than usual.

 

“Good. How could I ever face you in court if we’d shared a  _ meal  _ together.”

 

It was Casey’s turn to laugh, and Rita found herself joining in. And, after a brief moment, she pulled the covers over both of them.

 

It was just sex, and she was grateful Casey felt the same. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t take comfort in the warmth of another person for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's almost done too! It's just the last one I'm struggling with!


	5. 5. Olivia Benson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - this is 100% me lusting after Olivia Benson, but watcha gonna do -shrug- Rita and I are kindred spirits.

The first time Rita Calhoun laid eyes on Olivia Benson, she knew exactly who she was without introduction. The protective way she sat by Jocelyn, the fierce eyes burning into the back of Rita’s skull, and the pure, powerful aura surrounding her gave her away instantly.

 

Rita had heard of Olivia Benson, warrior, crusader, and angel all in one. She’d heard of the fierce way she fought for victims, the tender way she tried to help them piece their lives back together, and the burden of the horrors of her job that she wore as an armor.

 

But nothing she’d heard could compare to the reality. And the reality was that she was breathtaking in every sense of the word.

 

The first time she met Olivia Benson - actually spoke to her - was in an unfortunate meeting at Manor Hill Academy. Unfortunate because every time Olivia spoke, Rita felt mesmerised. Unfortunate because Rita found herself feeling disappointed they weren’t on the same side of this. Disappointed because she realised Rafael and Olivia would leave together, and she’d be stuck giving legal advice to the actual human slug Brett Forrester. At least imagining him as a slug made his dull voice easier to listen to.

 

When she dropped in on Rafael to tell him his evidence wasn’t allowed, she couldn’t resist sneaking glances at Olivia, passing it off as smug satisfaction while revelling in the rapt, albeit stunned, attention.

 

It felt like a dance every time they met, and she was reminded again of Casey Novak and their courtroom dances. She’d first heard of Olivia from Novak, actually, when she’d first moved up in the DA’s office to higher profile cases.

 

Finally, while representing Avery Jordan in family court, Rita is thrilled to find them on the same side. She’s thrilled to find they get along (and even more thrilled by the shock Olivia can’t seem to hide at their getting along).

 

When they’re on the same side, it’s almost as though they could be friends. Conversation is easy, and Rita loves being the one to cause Olivia to smile. When Olivia invites her for drinks with the squad after a case one night, Rita can’t deny how pleased she is.

 

Even when it’s just her and Rafael left at the bar, she can’t seem to wipe the pleased little smile off of her face.

 

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Rafael commented, bumping his knee against hers as he slid a little closer to her.

 

She bumped her shoulder to his before resting back into the booth chair with a sigh.

 

“Olivia Benson,” she started, pausing when she wasn’t quite sure how to continue. “What’s she like outside of work?”

 

Rafael laughed softly, settling back next to her, his head tilted in her direction.

 

“Much the same as she is at work. Though I can’t say we’ve spent that much time together. Why?”

 

“Just… curious.”

 

He considered her for a moment too long, and she knew there was no way she could get out of this now she’d started it.

 

“Because Rita Calhoun is known for being _just_ curious.”

 

Rita sighed and shook her head, taking a sip of her drink to hide her smile.

 

“I’m fairly sure she’s seeing someone,” he offered with a teasing smirk. And damn him for always being able to read her like a book.

 

She downed the rest of her drink, shoving him out of the booth so she could get up.

 

“Good night, Rafael,” she said as she grabbed her coat and bag, looping both over her arm as she turned to leave.

 

“I’m not sure you’re her type,” he called after her.

 

She flipped him off over her shoulder as she walked out, not even giving him a backwards glance.

 

* * *

 

Defending Olivia was a whole new dance, and she wasn’t quite sure how to navigate the new terms of their acquaintance. Professionally, it was easy, and she did her job without a hitch. Personally, it was much harder.

 

Personally, she wanted to be there for Olivia, and she was grateful Rafael had called her. She wanted to listen to her, to let her tell her everything, and to support her in whatever way she could. But the only way she could truly support her was professionally, and that meant keeping boundaries. Boundaries that felt harder and harder to keep the more the sexual frustration inside her grew.

 

The heartstopping moment Olivia was nearly hit by a cab had Rita questioning herself. Up until now, she’d been sure she was just lusting after Olivia. Her will to fight after everything she had been through was such an attractive trait, and she wore her heart on her sleeve as a strength and not a weakness. Everything about her was enticing and Rita couldn’t help but want her. But pulling her back from in front of the cab and _knowing_ she was far from okay pulled at Rita’s heart in a way that was damn near painful, and she suddenly wondered if all her lusting and admiration had turned into something more.

 

She planned to resolve this once their case was over, and the only way she knew how to resolve it was to bite the bullet and ask her out. That way, she could either pursue the amazing, magnetic woman whose presence she almost craved, or she could be rejected and move on, regardless of how that rejection made her feel. And, oddly enough, she felt nothing at the prospect of either outcome - simply a determination to see it through.

 

She slipped through the precinct, disappointed to find Olivia’s desk empty. However, just as she was about to leave, Murphy’s office opened and he stalked out, leaving Olivia standing on her own by his desk. Offering him a small smile, she surged past him and into the office, leaning against the doorframe with her signature smirk in place.

 

“You okay?” She asked, softening her smirk to a smile when Olivia glanced up at her.

 

The smile she received in return made her heart flutter, but she pushed past it.

 

“Yeah, fine. Just… Long day, you know how it is.”

 

Rita hummed in agreement, swallowing as Olivia pushed her glasses up onto her head. _Women in glasses_ she thought to herself with an internal sigh.

 

“Can I buy you a drink?” She offered before she could get lost in her own thoughts.

 

Olivia quirked an eyebrow at her, looking a little uncertain, her mouth parted in preparation for a response that didn’t seem to come.

 

“Look,” Rita started, pushing herself off the doorframe so she was standing upright. “I’ll be blunt. I think you’re sexy as hell and this is me inviting you out on a date. Because I’m too old for subtlety.”

 

Olivia laughed, her face lighting up with amusement.

 

“Rita, I’m flattered, but-“

 

“You’re straight?” Olivia nodded. “Rafael did try to warn me.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

Rita shrugged, turning to leave.

 

“Your loss. Though I’m sure we could have had some fun together.”

 

“I’m sure we could have,” she replied with a laugh. “In another life.”

 

“Good night Olivia,” she said as she left.

 

“Good night Rita.”

 

The fondness in Olivia’s voice made her heart skip a beat, but she was pleasantly surprised to not find herself too disappointed with the outcome. Her disappointment extended only to the continuance of her sexual frustration, and not a broken heart.

 

 _I’m too old to be falling in love anyway._ She thought to herself as she headed out of the squad room.


	6. +1. Fin Tutuola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to tobeconspicuous for letting me bounce ideas and whinge about my writing and generally getting me through this entire fic. Especially the last chapter. You've been invaluable to me through this whole process.
> 
> I only hope this chapter doesn't let any of you down. Cos I'm still not 100% sure on it. I feel like there should be more dialogue to get a better sense of their relationship, but the whole point of this fic was to be inside Rita's head. So yeah. I hope I did her justice in the end.

“Did I hear that correctly?”

 

Rita stopped dead in her tracks, turning to the source of the amused voice behind her. Detective Tutuola. And he looked too smug for his own good.

 

“That depends on what you heard, Detective,” she responded, folding her arms across her chest as she planted her signature barely-there smirk on her face.

 

“You askin’ the Sarge on a date,” he replied, mimicking her pose in a way that should have annoyed her.

 

She felt a flash of embarrassment course through her and she could feel the heat rising in her neck. She took a steady breath, trying to slow her heart rate and halt the blush creeping its way to her face. Just as she was about to respond, his smirk grew.

 

“Let me buy you a condolence drink.” She hadn’t been expecting that, that’s for sure.

 

“Fine,” she agreed - and really, why the hell was she agreeing? “But if you choose to mock me for my terrible life choices you’ll wind up dead in a ditch. And don’t think I couldn’t get away with it.” She raised her eyebrow at him for good measure.

 

Instead of the usual shock she saw on men - men who were more used to women who didn’t talk back - Fin just laughed and shook his head, gathering his coat before leading her out.

 

And if one drink turned into three, and turned out to be a pretty good time, no one had to know, right?

* * *

 

 

Every time they bumped into each other they seemed to have drinks together. Eventually they traded numbers, and drinks turned into dinner and drinks on a weekly basis, unless their jobs prevented it.

 

Rita didn’t even quite know how it happened, but Fin slotted into her life perfectly. He was a nice break from the lawyers she surrounded herself with constantly. He was funny, he didn’t take himself (or her, for that matter) too seriously, and despite his tough exterior, he really was a big softie at heart, which made him terribly fun to tease.

 

When she found out through courthouse rumours that he’d been shot on duty, she called him, desperately hoping he’d pick up so she’d know he was okay.

 

“Hey Rita, what’s up?”

 

She breathed a sigh of relief, sagging against the wall as she gripped the phone to her ear. She didn’t quite know when the shift happened, but he’d quickly become one of the most important people in her life.

 

“Are you okay?” She asked, and he laughed softly. The sound nearly brought her to tears, which was just ridiculous.

 

“Yeah, girl, I’m fine. How’d you find out? It was just a graze, really. Bullet took a chunk of skin from my arm, but that’s it.”

 

“Let me bring you dinner.”

 

“You wanna come over?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

 

“Yes, I want to come over. Jesus Christ, Fin, you could have died.”

 

“Yeah, alright, alright, I’ll send you my address.”

 

She arrived at his apartment just over an hour later, Chinese bag in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.

 

They didn’t discuss her fear for his life, or the fact that she was at his apartment dressed in casual clothes instead of her usual suit. They didn’t discuss the fact that she insisted on looking after him, despite half-heartedly complaining about it. They didn’t discuss the fact that she cuddled up against his side as he draped his good arm around her shoulders, and they certainly didn’t discuss the gentle kiss he pressed into her hair or the contented hum she gave in response.

 

They didn’t discuss it because they didn’t have to. It progressed organically, without discussions of boundaries or a need to define their relationship. 

 

Dinners in pubs and restaurants once a week turned into dinners at the others house more often than not. Drinks in a bar after work turned into bad DVDs and fantastic sex. After a year, Fin had practically moved into her apartment. He only really went back to his if he needed to grab something he hadn’t already left at hers. She’d made room on her shelves for his DVDs and video games and she’d made room in her closet for his clothes. She’d even let him bring his stupid sporting memorabilia AND let his favourite jersey take pride of place on their bedroom wall (and when had she started to think of it as  _ their  _ bedroom?)

 

They kept their work and private lives blessedly separate. At work, they acted like casual acquaintances, and at home they didn’t discuss their respective jobs. They were there for each other when work got tough, but they didn’t discuss it in relation to work, only in relation to the emotional ramifications of what they had to deal with.

 

It was, if she thought about it for too long, too good to be true. But she didn’t think about it. This was the most effortless relationship she’d ever had with another person and she didn’t want to think about it. She just wanted to live it. Which meant that she was completely surprised by the icy silence that accompanied their cab ride home, and the way that Fin refused to meet her eye the entire way up to their apartment.

 

“I can’t believe you,” he started as soon as he’d slammed the door shut behind them. “I can’t believe you’d take scum like that as a client.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I had to do my job according to  _ your _ rules,” she countered, rounding on him with hands on hips.

 

“Rita, he’s raped  _ at least _ five women, and he-”

 

“Allegedly.”

 

“What?”

 

“Allegedly raped.”

 

“Oh, come off it. You know as well as I do he’s guilty.” He was practically shouting now. In the entire 18 months their relationship had been developing, he’d never once shouted at her.

 

They’d disagreed - oh, how they’d disagreed - but he’d never shouted at her. Not like this. She’d never been one to be upset by shouting, but she found her chest constricting as his voice rose.

 

“It’s not my job to determine his guilt,” she spat as she turned from him, heading to the bedroom.

 

“I just woulda hoped that my girlfriend would have more sense than that. I woulda hoped  _ I _ had more sense than that,” he shouted after her as she slammed the bedroom door.

 

Moments later she heard the front door slam, and with it, her heart broke a little. Guilt consumed her instantly. Irrational guilt, she knew, but guilt nonetheless. It was a miracle that their often opposing jobs hadn’t got between them in the time they’d known each other. It could have, when Rita was defending AJ Martin, but that had been early days and they saw each other far less than they did now. It was easier to skirt around then. 

 

But this was different. This was the first time since all of this started that she’d had to defend someone truly horrific. And he was horrific. She knew it just as well as Fin did. The difference was, it was her job to give him the best defense possible. And she was damn good at her job, and she knew it.

 

Still, the conflict hurt more than she had expected. The thought of winning in court didn’t thrill her on this one. All she could picture was Fin’s anger and hurt and  _ betrayal _ , and as irrational as those emotions would be, she couldn’t bear to be the cause of them nonetheless.

 

It was that thought that made her realise how serious this was. Moving in, sharing the past 18 months of their lives together as they have, was just nice. She hadn’t been forced to think about it too much. But now… Now she was reconsidering everything.

 

Both of their lives would be easier if they ended it. Quit while they were ahead. And yet that was the last thing she wanted. She always chose career over love, and yet here she was, choosing love.

 

And that thought hit her right in the chest, causing tears to spring to her eyes. She was  _ in love _ with Detective Odafin Tutuola. In retrospect, it was so obvious. She just hadn’t bothered to analyse her feelings too much. She’d spent too much time loving the wrong people and not loving the right people, and she’d truly believed she was too old to find love now. And yet love had found her while she was looking the other way.

 

She heard the front door open, and flung the bedroom door open as well. She stared, shocked to see her own emotions mirrored on Fin’s face.

 

“We have to disclose,” she said quietly as she begun to close the distance between them. “We have to disclose our relationship. And I’ll hand this case on to someone else.”

 

“No, Rita. That was stupid of me. Sometimes your job is shit, but I gotta deal with that. This is on me. Don’t-”

 

“I want to. I want to, because I love you.”

 

She stared at him almost defiantly, half expecting rejection. Instead, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

 

“You love me?”

 

“Shut up,” she muttered, squirming in his arms a little.

 

“Never. I’ll never stop teasing you for loving me,” he joked with a laugh, squeezing her close.

 

“You realise you’re only insulting yourself if you think it’s worth teasing someone for loving you,” she said petulantly.

 

“Yeah, well, I love you too. So clearly you’re in love with a crazy person,” he teased, and she hit him hard in the chest before kissing him roughly on the lips, catching him completely by surprise.

 

“We still have to disclose,” she said quietly, resting their foreheads together.

 

“Yeah, babe, I know. I’ve been meaning to bring it up for a while now, but I didn’t wanna put you off.”

 

She scoffed at him, but she knew he was probably right. Love had a history of throwing her off - if she’d been faced with it before she was ready to admit it, it may not have gone down so well. She was mature enough to admit that, at least.

 

“It’s going to be hard,” she warned him, looking up with a raised brow to gauge his reaction. She was thrown by the pure love written in his expression.  _ How had I never noticed before? _

 

“When’s love ever been easy?” He asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll manage.”


End file.
